


To Have and to Hold

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Drug Use, Humiliation, Kink Meme, Lyrium Withdrawal, M/M, Object Insertion, Oviposition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26406652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: For theDragon Age kinkmeme. Knight-Commander Meredith has begun withholding lyrium for disciplinary reasons and the underground lyrium smuggling trade is now flourishing. Transporting raw lyrium ore is tricky. Fortunately, smugglers polish the ore into smooth egg shapes, and the templars have found creative ways to smuggle this contraband into the Gallows. When Carver's own lyrium rations are cut he takes a bit of inspiration from the rumors and has an unexpected encounter with Knight-Captain Cullen along the way.
Kudos: 25
Collections: Anonymous





	To Have and to Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate title: Exit Strategy

Carver’s hands trembled in the dim light of the smuggler's den. On the table before him a row of blue lyrium ore was spread out across a supple-looking cloth. The ore had been polished into smooth, oblong shapes resembling bird eggs. They glowed faintly, the blue lyrium seeming to percolate within. The polished ores were far more beautiful than the glowing vials that held his usual ration. The eggs beckoned and hummed, enticing him to partake.  
  
“They look like gems,” Carver remarked. Better than gems, really. Truly remarkable.  
  
“The polish makes them safer to transport,” the Carta said.  
  
Carver reached to stroke one of the ores, but clenched his fist when he realized his fingers were visibly trembling. “The Knight-Commander...” he began.  
  
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard the sob stories,” the Carta said. “If a templar commits any infraction, or any perceived one, the scary Knight-Commander takes your lyrium away. Makes you beg for it like a craven, makes you swear loyalty. Not a great way to run an army, if you ask me, but what do I know? I’m just a lowly lyrium smuggler with artistic aspirations.”  
  
Caver was too swaddled in need to take offense. He had suffered tremors, headaches, and a dry throat for days now. Lyrium withdrawal symptoms were worse than a hangover, far worse, because there was no end to them. He nodded, his gaze never leaving the pale blue orbs. “How do I…?”  
  
“Not my problem,” the Carta said. “We charge by weight. What’ll you have?”  
  
Carver dug into his purse and produced the sovereigns needed for a medium-sized ore that fit snugly in his palm. He hefted the lyrium, weighing it as he weighed his options. He was all too familiar with the rumors about how one could safely smuggle lyrium ore into the Gallows, as well as the rumors about the associated side effects. Skin contact with polished raw lyrium would take the edge off his withdrawal symptoms and more, if the gossip was to be believed. Once he’d transported the ore to the Gallows and concealed it in his hiding place behind the barracks stairwell he could use it to supplement his weekly rations. He should only need a taste to take the edge off, and an ore this size ought to last a long time. Smuggling lyrium into the Gallows was a risky proposition, the officers were on the lookout for contraband, but the possibility of safeguarding himself against the tremors and hunger made it well worth the risk.  
  
“This is your first time, isn’t it?” the Carta asked, counting the coins. Carver nodded. “Well, a word of warning. Lyrium is potent in any form. Polishing the ore helps contain it but trace amounts are still absorbed through skin contact. I've heard all about how you templars smuggle lyrium these days. Make sure you don’t keep it there too long, you’ll get lyrium addled. Too much of a good thing and all that. You’ll be reduced to a drooling lunatic if you’re not careful.”  
  
“Right,” Carver said, with more certainty than he felt.  
  
“Now move along,” the Carta said. “I have other customers.”  
  
“Right,” Carver said again. He pocketed the lyrium and took the side door. Darktown was a dangerous place for templars, the Knight-Captain had stopped sending patrols because they kept disappearing, but the Carta wisely kept their smuggling outposts near the entrance to help mitigate the risk. Carver took his time walking back, mingling purposefully among the rickety merchant stalls as though he were on patrol. If caught he could plausibly say he was independently investigating a lead, though he knew most officers would immediately suspect what he was up to. On the somewhat dubious plus side, Meredith’s temper was such half the templars in the Gallows were now buying black market lyrium. If he ran into any other templars down here they would be just as suspect as--  
  
Carver froze when Knight-Captain Cullen stepped out of an alley into the main tunnel in front of him. For a fleeting moment he wondered if Cullen had come here to investigate rumors of lyrium smuggling. It would not be the first time the Knight-Captain had gone on his own to investigate templar business. Then Carver noticed Cullen was secreting something away to an inside pocket, and he certainly could not miss the flush that spread across Cullen’s face when their eyes met.

Cullen looked like Carver felt--haggard, worn, a sheen of sweat on his brow. The state of the Gallows must be worse than he'd realized if Meredith was withholding lyrium from her own second-in-command, but there could be no mistake. The Knight-Captain was going through withdrawal, the same as he. There could be little doubt they were both in Darktown for the same reason.  
  
“Knight-Captain, ser,” Carver said, his mouth a bit dry. They were nearly the same age but Cullen made a point of acting older, growing out his beard, trying—and failing—to slick back boyish curls, referring to recruits as lads. This was not the time for familiarity.  
  
“Ser Carver,” Cullen said, his voice tight.  
  
Carver swallowed. His hands were shaking again. He clenched his fists and said, “Ser, I was investigating disturbing rumors, but I see they are unfounded.” He was sweating furiously. He hastily wiped his brow.  
  
Knight-Captain Cullen was not known for compassion, but it seemed to him Cullen’s suspicious eyes grew thoughtful. Perhaps even he could have sympathy for a fellow templar, a fellow Fereldan, who was clearly suffering withdrawal. “Ser Carver, have you ever investigated this area of Darktown before?”  
  
“No, ser,” he said. “This is the first time.”  
  
“And you are alone,” Cullen said. “In the future, it would be prudent to bring backup. But it is just as well. I require assistance with my own investigation. Come with me at once.”  
  
Carver nodded and followed the Knight-Captain up the stairs to Lowtown. Cullen stopped near a side-alley that was known for dust smuggling. He commented to the men there that lyrium smuggling was a crime against the Chantry. The men agreed, offered to report any crimes they witnessed, and suggested the templars investigate a nearby storehouse for contraband so they might continue to keep the people of Kirkwall safe.  
  
Carver took all this in wordlessly, focusing his energy on keeping his trembling limbs and beating heart in check. When they entered the dusty storehouse Cullen promptly latched the door. It was a small room with a single table and no windows. It would serve as a private spot for putting contraband in one's orifices, if one was so inclined.  
  
Carver had to respect the forethought, but supposed he should not be surprised. The Knight-Captain was a cautious man and though many of the older templars grumbled about his age few would deny his ability to delegate troops and supplies. It seemed Cullen always prepared for the worst, and in Kirkwall it seemed the worst nearly always came to pass. If an officer like Cullen was willing to procure contraband lyrium he would naturally make provisions for transporting it, but when Cullen turned back to Carver he was tense and seemed uncertain how to proceed.  
  
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Carver said, eager to break the ice. He revealed the lyrium ore in his gloved palm and placed it on the table.  
  
Cullen’s shoulders relaxed and he retrieved an ore from his pocket and put it on the table as well. “We’re doing this, then,” he said, as if it hadn't been quite real to him until that moment.  
  
“Looks like it, ser,” Carver said. He wondered about lubricant. He had some oil at the barracks but not on his person.  
  
Unsurprisingly, Cullen had thought of that as well. The Knight-Captain removed a small bottle of clear oil from his belt pouch and said, “Have you ever done this before?” There was an odd note of uncertainty in his otherwise neutral and professional tone.  
  
“No, ser,” Carver said. “Haven't you?" When Cullen seemed taken aback he added, "It's just, you had this place ready...”  
  
“I made an educated guess as to what one might need,” Cullen said. “I confess I am not sure I can do this alone. I don’t--” He cut himself off and tried again. “I understand the mechanism, but I don’t know, ah… how best to...”  
  
“Right,” Carver said. “Nothing fancy, I expect, just grease them up and in they go. We can take turns.”  
  
Cullen sighed, his shoulders slumping even further in what could either be relief or defeat. "Of course. You’re in a bad state. You should go first.”  
  
Carver felt as grateful as he did terrified. He had not planned terribly far ahead in regards to how he would actually smuggle the lyrium ore into the Gallows. While it was true he'd never taken a chunk of lyrium up his arse, he was not exactly inexperienced in such matters. He had fond memories of being with Peaches behind Barlin's shed, and of her greased thumb in particular, but taking a pretty girl's thumb hardly compared to taking a hard object the size of an egg. He’d figured he could manage it himself with a bit of oil but he hadn't been entirely certain. Having a partner in this affair was as reassuring as it was nerve-wracking. He picked up his piece of ore, questioning the wisdom of its size now that he was certain where it was going, but there was no helping it at this point. He took the small vial of oil and coated the ore well before brusquely unbuttoning his skirts. He leaned over the table, the humid air unpleasant against his exposed skin, and bared his ass to his Knight-Captain.  
  
“All right,” Cullen said quietly, more to himself. He took the oiled ore and knelt behind Carver. “Try to relax,” he said, in a tone he clearly thought was reassuring.  
  
Carver let out a strangled laugh. “Yes, ser, I’ll try,” he said.  
  
Cullen pressed the tip of the ore to his anus. The lyrium was warm and slick with oil and at that small touch Carver felt an echo of the all-too-familiar tingling sensation that came from a dose of lyrium. He released a slow breath. “Ready,” he said.  
  
Cullen slowly pushed. Carver gasped, his breath catching, as the lyrium eased into his anus. Cullen immediately withdrew it and the warmth vanished. “I’m sorry,” Cullen said, his voice quavering. “Was—is that too much?”  
  
“No, it’s all right,” Carver said. "I'm just not used to it, is all. Do it in one steady motion if you can." He forced himself to relax the muscles in his sphincter so he might accept the offering and his toes curled a bit when the ore breached him a second time. Per his request, Cullen slowly but steadily eased the ore inside him. Carvers cock hardened as the familiar warmth and glow of lyrium, normally centered in his chest, coalesced near his prostate, enhancing the stimulation brought on by having a smooth, hard object hilted inside him. He groaned as he was stretched wider than he’d ever been, riding the edge of pleasure and pain as the lyrium ore was forced into him at its widest point.  
  
“Should I stop?” Cullen asked, sounding a bit panicky.  
  
“Push it in,” Carver managed. “Maker, push it all in.”  
  
Cullen pushed. Carver’s hips jerked as the lyrium ore seated inside him with a pleasant pop, his cock bobbing as he ejaculated across the top of the rickety table. His fingers curled against the wood as warmth flooded through him, and--  
  
There it was. Purpose. Clarity. Centeredness. The fuzziness and cobwebs that had gradually accumulated in his mind over these past days were gone in a shining instant. How he’d missed this feeling and the rightness, the certainty, that accompanied it. Maker, it felt better than anything. After allowing himself a moment to adjust to the foreign body within Carver tucked in his semi-hard cock as best he could and pulled up and arranged his skirts. He had a strange sense of fullness that hovered at the edge of discomfort, rendering him acutely aware of his body and its dimensions. The fullness felt strangely good. Under other circumstances he certainly would not have minded it.  
  
When Carver turned to Cullen he felt no shame—the lyrium dulled such emotions—but he could see his superior officer was still in a state of slight panic. It was difficult to say if the Knight-Captain had much experience in this area. He kept to himself and fraternized with no one that Carver was aware of, but there were whispers of impropriety with a mage back in Ferelden and Carver had not missed the way Cullen looked at Garrett. Surely he'd lain with a lad or an adventurous lass at some point and had an idea what to expect.  
  
“Make it quick,” Cullen said, turning his back to him. He fumbled with his skirts, dropped them, and leaned against the table. He was so resolute he'd forgotten to oil his own piece of ore. Carver did it for him, making sure the surface was slick and well-prepared, oil generously coating its entire circumfrence.  
  
“You’re really tense,” Carver warned him. “That will make it hurt. Think of something nice.” It seemed the lyrium nestled in his own ass emboldened him, for he added, “Think of my brother Garrett, if you like.”  
  
Cullen gave him a sharp look over his shoulder that might have been intimidating under other circumstances, but then his eyes dropped to the oiled ore between Carver's fingers and he merely sighed, evidently resigned to his fate.  
  
“We do what we must,” Carver said sympathetically. He settled in behind the Knight-Captain. “I’m going to use oil to help.” Cullen’s glutes tensed when Carver rubbed a bit of oil on his anus, but after circling a few more times Cullen's breathing stopped being so short and he seemed to relax. “Alright,” Carver said. “Here it comes.” He pressed the ore into Cullen’s ass.  
  
Cullen shifted, his hands tightening on the table, but he did not make a sound as Carver slowly pushed the lyrium ore inside him. Sweat beaded on the exposed skin of his thighs. Carver’s eye was drawn to a subtle movement. under the table The Knight-Captain’s cock, which had lain dormant until now, twitched, rousing at contact with lyrium.  
  
Carver focused on the work at hand, slowly and carefully easing the lyrium ore into his Captain’s anus. Cullen had chosen a smaller piece of ore but he was extraordinarily tense, which made the process more difficult.  
  
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Carver said. “You’re going to have to do something. Think of something, anything. Trust me on this.”  
  
“Yes, yes,” Cullen said, impatiently. It seemed to Carver his superior officer squirmed a little, but soon enough he took the advice to heart. The quality of his breathing changed as his cock hardened. As promised, it helped. Carver was able to steadily ease the lyrium ore inside him, his thumb pressing against Cullen’s perineum as he pushed the lyrium past his sphincter. As soon as the ore was seated inside him Cullen whimpered and came, his body drawing the ore in deeper on climax, and continued coming a few moments longer. Carver wondered, in a detached way, if the Knight-Captain had any sort of regular sexual release. If not, perhaps that was why he was always so stiff and--  
  
"Carver, my belt," Cullen managed. "Quickly, if you please."  
  
Carver reached among the crumpled skirts and found the leather belt pouch, feeling two unmistakable hard spheres inside. Inside were two more lyrium ores. Together the three of them comprised eggs of ascending size.  
  
" _Ser_ ," Carver said, with much respect.  
  
"I wanted to make sure I could tolerate--and I can," Cullen said. "Please--before I lose my nerve."

Carver palmed the two egg-shaped ores, coating both with oil, and administered them much as he had their predecessor. The second readily followed the first, with a nice pop, but a whine escaped Cullen's teeth when Carver began pushing in the third.  
  
Carver stopped, his thumbs resting on the rim of the Knight-Captain's anus. "With respect ser, are you sure you can get these out again? The Carta said--"  
  
"I will manage--" Cullen's breath caught as Carver pushed the last ore into his arse with a slow pop. "Sweet Andraste," he said. His cock was still hard and straining, but he paid it no mind as he began hauling up his skirts and covering himself.  
  
“Now what?” Carver asked.  
  
“We return to the Gallows and go our separate ways,” Cullen said, his voice a bit breathy. “We speak of this to no one. If one of us is caught, the other denies any knowledge.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Carver said. “If you don’t mind me asking, ser--”  
  
“Please,” Cullen said. “I think at this juncture you can call me Cullen.”  
  
“Right,” Carver said. “What’d you do to get on her bad side, Cullen?”  
  
For a moment it seemed as though the Knight-Captain would not tell him. Cullen shook his head, wiping the sweat on his brow, and said, “I may have… omitted your brother’s activities from some of my reports.”  
  
“You covered for Garrett?” Carver asked.  
  
“Hawke is a responsible mage and a good person,” Cullen said. “He has done a great service to this city and I believe he deserves discretion when possible. Unfortunately the Knight-Commander disagreed and was angered by the omission. It is the first time she has disciplined me in this way and I--” He faltered. “I fear I am not as strong as I’d hoped.”  
  
“I stood up to Mettin for messing with some of the elves in the alienage. They’re civilians and they have enough troubles of their own, they don’t deserve that. I reckon he went to the Knight-Commander with some lie. I don’t care. Now I know what it feels like, to go without the lyrium. Next time I’ll be ready.”  
  
There was a new light in Cullen's eyes. “Yes,” he said. “You’re right. We’ll be better prepared next time.”  
  
_Next time._ Caver rolled it around in his mind as they walked back to the Gallows, stopping at patrol points that would be customary for templars. All the while he clinically assessed the peculiar sense of fullness the lyrium ore granted. At times it felt quite good, but at other times—if he was jostled on the ferry, for instance—the twinge of pain and slight ache reminded him of the Carta’s warning. He should not leave raw lyrium in his body any longer than he had to. Already he was feeling a bit light-headed. He would give himself away if he became noticeably lyrium-addled when his rations were supposed to be reduced.  
  
They disembarked from the ferry and went their separate ways, Cullen returning to the officer’s wing and Carver retreating to the barracks. With each step it seemed his head grew lighter, his loins weirdly libidinous. He needed to remove the lyrium and soon. He increased his pace, cutting across the training yard. If he cut past the officer's quarters he could save a little time. He daren't attempt to extract the lyrium until he was at the hiding place he'd dug out in the wall behind the far stairwell.  
  
"Ser Carver," a voice rumbled. "What's your hurry?"  
  
Carver slowed as Ser Mettin and Knight-Lieutenant Alrik stepped into view. Had they been waiting for him? It seemed they had. _Bollocks_ , he thought. He hadn't been as discrete as he'd thought.  
  
"You seem a bit light-headed," Knight-Lieutenant Karras said, approaching from behind. "Are you well?"  
  
“I feel fine, ser,” Carver said. "Thank you for your concern." Thankfully the lyrium’s clarifying effects made nonchalance easy, even when he was high as a kite with a chunk of ore up his arse.  
  
“We know where you went, lad,” Karras said.  
  
“You mean on patrol, ser?” Carver asked, calculating what time stalling might buy and if it would make a difference. “I was just going to write my report.”  
  
“We know you’ve got a special something in you,” Alrik said. “If you give it to us, the Knight-Commander never need know.”  
  
“I don’t know what you mean,” Carver said.  
  
“You can play it however you like,” Karras said. “We can search you in the Knight-Captain’s office or we can take you straight to Meredith and see what she thinks about it. What say you?”  
  
Even lyrium’s centering effects could not prevent the bolt of terror that went through his heart at the thought of Knight-Commander Meredith knowing about, much less extracting, the piece of lyrium ore he’d smuggled. He swallowed and nodded. “Right, then,” he said. "To the Knight-Captain."  
  
“Good lad,” Karras said. He slapped him lightly on the backside and it took a bit of effort not to flinch when the lyrium within him twinged in response.  
  
The Lieutenants herded him into Knight-Captain Cullen’s office without knocking. Cullen was much too careful to leave the door unlocked while he was doing anything sensitive, but he was clearly unsettled by the intrusion. He frowned at them, quickly shutting a drawer as he rounded the desk. Surely he hadn’t had time to remove his own lyrium.  
  
“What is the meaning of this?” Cullen asked. He seemed a bit... off. _Maker's balls_ , Carver thought. _He's still got it in him. He'_ _ll be addled three times over_ _._  
  
“The Knight-Commander tasked us with rooting out any contraband. We discovered this Knight smuggling lyrium on his person,” Alrik said.  
  
“Have you searched him?” Cullen asked.  
  
“Not yet, ser,” Alrik said.  
  
“Very well, I will handle it and process any vials that are found. I will inform the Knight-Commander of your service. Thank you for your diligence. You are dismissed.”  
  
Mettin laughed, an ugly sound, and Cullen’s frown deepened.  
  
“Oh, we’ll search him, ser,” Karras said. “Don't you worry about that. We just wanted you to bear witness. Mettin, the door.”  
  
Mettin shut the door and locked it. Carver was trying his damnedest not to look too sheepish. Getting caught within five minutes of returning to the Gallows was not a good look.  
  
“Over the desk, lad,” Alirk said. “Skirts down.”  
  
“What’s the meaning of this?” Cullen asked again, clearly angry this time.  
  
“Do not be concerned, ser,” Karras said. "You stand witness to the search to ensure it is all above board. You would not allow anything untoward to happen on your watch, would you?”  
  
Cullen’s jaw tightened. “No, of course not.”  
  
Carver glanced quickly at Cullen, who gave him a barely perceptible nod. There was no way out, he might as well get it over with. Carver leaned over the desk, loosening his skirts. Evidently he did not move fast enough and Alrik roughly pushed him down, kicking his legs apart. Carver had to grab the desk to keep his balance.  
  
"Give us what you have, lad," Karras said.  
  
Carver clenched and began to push, straining against the lyrium ore within him. His cock stiffened against the edge of the table. Straining against the ore felt strangely good, but what aroused him was the anticipation in the air, the way the men’s eyes were locked on him, waiting for him to dispense his bounty. Being watched this way, while in such a vulnerable position...  
  
"That's it, boy," Karras said. "Give it to us nice and easy."  
  
Carver grunted, his face flush, as he strained to pass the smooth ore. He felt it slowly crest his anus, stretching him wide, and pleasure radiated through him. It empowered him to keep pushing, rhythmically with shallow breathing, until the greased ore eased out of his body. As soon as it had crested the halfway point it dropped. Alrik moved quickly to catch it with a cloth, wrapping it up like the gold it was.  
  
"Look at you," Karras said. "All oiled up and stretched out. Do you feel empty now, boy? You’re so well-prepared, it seems a shame to leave you that way.”  
  
As soon as Caver felt the light touch of a gloved hand on his hip he wrenched away and stumbled in the skirts bunched around his knees, falling hard on his ass. His cock jutted out, still semi-erect from sensations brought up by the expulsion of the lyrium orb.  
  
"You were supposed to get less lyrium, but here we find you've gotten an extra dose,” Mettin said. “Whatever shall we do to balance the scales?"  
  
"Enough," Cullen said stiffly. "You've obtained the contraband, your job is done. I will discipline Ser Carver myself."  
  
"But ser," Karras said, turning to him. "We’re here to confiscate two smuggled packages."  
  
"I don't know what you mean," Cullen said, his tone sharpening, but he was sweating and flush, with a slight daze that Carver must have surely worn on his own face, and it was clear he knew damn well what they meant.  
  
"Bend him over," Alrik said.  
  
Cullen turned to push Karras away, but both men backed him into the wall, grappled with his arms, and threw him over the desk much as they had Carver. Carver could only suck in a slow breath and watch as the Lieutenants pinned the Knight-Captain down and wrenched his skirts apart.  
  
Cullen struggled and Mettin grabbed him by the hair, tightening his gloved fingers as he forced Cullen’s face against the table. Cullen gritted his teeth, still fighting to get free.  
  
"Knight-Captain, if you give us what we came for we won't tell the Commander whose sweet ass it came out of," Karras said mildly. "But if you put up a fight and make me go in there for it, I'll take more than the lyrium."  
  
Cullen immediately went still, breathing heavily.  
  
"You see," Karras told the others. "The Commander's young pup can be brought to heel after all."  
  
"Pity," Alrik said, his gaze openly moving along Cullen’s backside. “I enjoy seeing him spread out.”  
  
Cullen's eyes flitted to Carver. At that moment he seemed very young and afraid. Carver gave him a short, reassuring nod. Cullen shut his eyes. "I yield," he said quietly.  
  
"Alright, lads, stand back," Karras said. "Give the man some room. He is the Knight-Captain, after all."  
  
Cullen stayed where he was, bent over the desk. His body tensed. He gripped the edge of the table, shifting his weight, and strained. Nothing happened. He continued, visibly straining, until a bead of sweat ran down the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Don't make me go in there and get it, ser," Karras warned.  
  
"I just need--more time--" Cullen managed, in a low voice. "Please."  
  
"We don't have all day," Alrik said, and he began removing his glove.  
  
"He's nervous, he's too tense," Carver said quickly. The officers looked at him. "I can help him. Just give us a bit of privacy." Alrik laughed. Of course, Alirk wanted to see his superior officer humiliated. "You say the Knight-Commander asked you to confiscate contraband," Carver said. "Maybe she did, maybe she didn't, but we both know she won't tolerate humiliation of her second. You saw what happened to the ones whispering about that mage in Ferelden."  
  
This sobered them, and the glance exchanged between Alrik and Karras confirmed Carver's suspicion: they feared the commander more than they hated the captain.  
  
"Don't keep us waiting," Karras said. The officers left, Alrik slapping Cullen's exposed flank on his way past. Cullen flinched but said nothing. When the door shut, he sagged against the table.  
  
"Thank you," he said. His voice was raw, as though he'd been screaming.  
  
"Try to relax," Carver said. "They just expect one. We'll give it to them and they'll go."  
  
Cullen laughed and it sounded a bit wild. Carver was already searching the room for lubricant. He found a bit of leather oil, just a dab ought to do it. He knelt behind Cullen, surveying how tense his backside was. Cullen's hands were still clenched against the desk. "Maker's breath," he whispered. Sweat was beading on his brow. Outside, one of the officers banged loudly on the door and he startled. “Sweet Andraste...”  
  
Carver had never particularly liked Cullen, but he felt for him in that moment. He said, "Ser, let me--”  
  
"Stop that," Cullen snapped. He sighed. "I mean... Don't call me ser. Please. Just... help me."  
  
Carver ran his oiled thumb lightly around Cullen's anus. The lyrium ore had now begun crowning but Cullen was still much too tense to properly expel it. Carver slowly began massaging his backside, working his thumbs into the Knight-Captain's tense glutes.

Cullen’s breath hissed between his teeth. “I can’t think straight,” he said. “Say… something, anything, please.”  
  
"Just relax," Carver said. "Feels good, doesn't it? Having something warm inside, filling you." He’d never been much for sexy talk, but Peaches had liked even the most basic descriptions.  
  
Cullen swallowed. Carver kept kneading his backside, watching as the ore slowly began to ease its way out. "It feels good when you pass it," Carver continued, in a low voice. "Like finally parting from a lover..."  
  
Cullen's breath caught, and Carver glanced under the table and realized the Knight-Captain's cock had grown quite hard, precome beading at the tip. Carver felt a bit of a rush in spite of himself. He kept kneading, circling his thumbs, and said, "Imagine someone strong and powerful inside you, feeling the heat of them sliding in and out as you both have your pleasure--”  
  
Cullen made a choked sound and the lyrium ore, having gradually eased downward all this time, fell free. Carver did not move quickly enough and it hit the floor with a loud clang, startling them both.

“I need to check,” Carver said, and eased an exploratory finger up the Knight-Captain's ass, feeling the smooth, hard surface of the next ore. "Can you hold onto it?" he asked, in a low voice.  
  
"Sweet Andraste, I better," Cullen said, fumbling to pull up his skirts as Carver retrieved the slick stone from the ground. The fall had damaged it, the edge was chipped, but he hastily wiped it down andwrapped it a cloth much as Alrik had. Cullen still seemed a bit dazed but Carver hoped the officers would be too distracted by the lyrium to notice.  
  
The door opened. Cullen quickly turned, still rushing to get dressed, and Carver promptly held out the wrapped bundle. Alrik took the lyrium and inspected it.  
  
"You damaged it," he said.  
  
"No matter," Karras said. "There will be more where that came from, won't there, lad?" He smiled at Carver. "Now that we’ve seen how well you can carry a nice, big piece of lyrium we can put you to good use."  
  
"No," Cullen said, as he finished straightening his uniform. "You have the contraband, and in your zeal to confiscate it you removed any proof of possession. It will be my word against yours. Do you really think the Knight-Commander will believe this outlandish, scandalous story about templars bodily smuggling such things? You surely recall how she reacted to the last scandalous story that circulated in these walls, as Ser Carver only just reminded you."  
  
The opportunistic mirth faded from the Lieutenants’ faces as they considered this. Indeed, the Knight-Commander did not like outlandish stories and she despised scandal. Cullen had vocally defended her from critics in recent years and it seemed she trusted him above all others.  
  
"Ser Carver, stay for your reprimand," Cullen continued, his voice harsh. "The rest of you are dismissed. If I hear another word about this preposterous smuggling ring I will report it, and the source of the rumors, to the Knight-Commander myself. She will be none too pleased to learn her most trusted Lieutenants are fomenting sensational gossip, which only serves to encourage misguided templars to break ranks and undermine her disciplinary measures."  
  
Karras' eyes had long gone cold. "As you say, ser," he said, and the three officers departed. As soon as they were gone Carver shut the door.  
  
"Maker's breath," Cullen said, sinking into his chair and covering his face with his hands.  
  
"Cullen, we need to get the rest of it," Carver said, in a low voice. “You’re not well.”  
  
"No, I think I'll leave it there," he said, in a dreamy way.  
  
"Maker's balls," Carver said, hauling him to his feet. "Pull yourself together, man." He didn’t want to extract the remaining two ores here, so close to Meredith's office, but if they didn't get the lyrium out soon Cullen's delirium would be readily apparent. “Do you think you can push them out?”

“I hadn’t planned on that,” Cullen said, with a short laugh. “Andraste, that would be something.”

“But you did have a plan?” Carver whispered, starting to feel a bit panicked.

“I confiscated a magical artifact for the purpose, but it’s missing. Someone searched my office while I was gone. I should have known keeping such things here was far too risky.”

“Maker’s balls,” Carver said again. “Describe it to me. What was it supposed to do?”

“It’s a force artifact. It draws items toward the user.”

Perhaps that was how the officers had known Cullen was also smuggling lyrium, and when they saw Carver and Cullen arrive together on the ferry they put it together. That made Carver feel marginally better about being caught so easily.

There was not enough time for Cullen to pass the lyrium on his own. Without the artifact their only chance was to obtain a similarly enchanted item or enlist the help of a mage. Carver couldn’t begin to imagine any mage in the Gallows could be trusted with the Knight-Captain’s vulnerability, but it was their best option. “We need a mage, then. Is there anyone you trust with this?”

“If the mages of the Gallows could be trusted, perhaps they need not be here,” Cullen said, his customary brusqueness breaking through his dreamlike haze. “Again and again, they have proven they are not responsible--”

But Carver’s ears pricked at the faint rumble of a familiar, deep voice. No. It couldn’t be. “Wait here,” he said. He cracked the door. An unmistakable voice drifted from Meredith’s office: “And may I say, that outfit was a wise choice.” Carver was not sure whether to laugh or cry. His idiot mage brother was here on a social call with the Knight-Commander because--

Of course he was. This was the sort of thing Garrett did. He dallied with templars, dancing about, telling jokes and doing favors. For the first time in his life, Carver was glad for it. He waited by the door, occasionally glancing back to observe Cullen’s progress. The Knight-Captain’s head had dipped back and he was humming pleasantly.

“Pity we have to remove it,” Carver muttered. “You’re far more tolerable this way.”

When Garrett stepped into the hall Carver discretely motioned to him from the cracked door. Curious, Garrett obliged. “Carver,” he said, when the door was shut. He surveyed Cullen. “And I see you’re… uh, what exactly are you doing with the Knight-Captain?”

“Champion,” Cullen said. He smiled and waved with his fingers. “What would you have of me?” There was no mistaking the libidinous undercurrent.

Garrett stared. “What did you do to him?” he whispered.

“Look, he’s got lyrium in his arse and we need to get it out before he gets too addled,” Carver said. Garrett immediately clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “Yes, yes, it’s quite funny,” Carver said, his voice laced with irritation. “We can all have a laugh together after we make sure he doesn’t lose his mind.”

“I don’t know, I rather like him this way,” Garrett said, sitting on the desk. He smiled at Cullen. Cullen smiled back.

“He’s the closest thing to a voice of reason here, next to Thrask,” Carver said. “If anything happens to him… I would not like to see what Meredith does, if anything happens to him.”

“He would certainly be missed. Very well,” Garrett said. “A little force tug and out it comes. You’ll both owe me a favor, of course.”

“You know how to do this?” Carver asked.

“ _Carver_ ,” Garrett said, giving him a look. Carver did not want to even begin to contemplate what that look meant or implied. To Cullen, he said, “If you could bend over, ser.”

This appeared to somewhat dampen Cullen’s high. A flush spread up his neck, and he cleared his throat and said, “Of course, this… must remain between us...”

“Knight-Captain, you know I am the absolute picture of discretion,” Garrett said.

Cullen fumbled with his skirts and belt, dropping them to the floor as he bent over the desk.

“I see you’ve been training quite a lot,” Garrett said, taking in the Knight-Captain’s backside.

“Brother,” Carver said wearily, holding out the bottle of oil, and he shook it impatiently.

Garrett rolled his eyes, as if to say, “ _Carver, please_ ,” and rubbed his thumb and forefinger together. They immediately grew slick with grease. Cullen’s eyelashes fluttered shut when Garrett rubbed the pad of his greased thumb along the rim of his anus.

“That’s it,” Garrett said. “Just relax, ser. We’ll have it out in no time.”

He summoned more grease and slowly pushed the tip of his thumb against him. Cullen gasped, his cock twitching against the desk. “Don’t resist,” Garrett said, in a surprisingly calming tone. “Relax, let me in.” Cullen groaned as Garrett’s thumb vanished inside him. “Good ser,” Garrett said.

Carver had never been more mortified at his own arousal in his life. He took a step back, under the pretense of double-checking the lock on the door.

Garrett slid his thumb in to the second knuckle and Cullen groaned again, rutting slightly against the desk.

“Stop messing around,” Carver hissed, in a low voice. “You’re taking advantage of him.”

“No,” Cullen said, with a clarity that was equally surprising. “It’s fine, I--” He paused to hum under his breath. “He’s conscientious and it’s much preferable to trying to— _Sweet Andraste_ , Hawke,” he managed, as Garret began edging a second finger in.

“Conscientious” was the last word Carver would have used to describe his brother’s thumb up someone’s ass, but he trusted Garrett, and he trusted Cullen to trust Garrett, and he leaned against the door, crossed his arms, and tried not to look.

Of course, this was folly. At Cullen’s next gasp Carver’s eyes automatically snapped back to the tableau before him. Garrett had worked in a second finger and was making what could only be described as a coaxing motion. Garrett withdrew his fingers and Cullen began to pant quietly, his breath catching at intervals. The polished lyrium ore slowly appeared and Cullen moaned through gritted teeth as his body stretched to accommodate its release.

When the ore crested it fell and Garrett easily caught it in his free hand. “Well done, ser,” he said.

“There’s… one more,” Cullen managed. A sheen of sweat dotted his stubbled cheek and forehead. Carver was not particularly attracted to men but he had to admit that in that moment, disheveled with his skirts about his knees, his back bowed and backside exposed, Cullen looked rather fetching.

“Knight-Captain,” Garrett said, with a note of true respect. “I’m impressed.”

“Yes, well, don’t be,” Cullen said. “To say I overextended myself would be a massive understatement.”

Garrett chuckled, and Cullen had a quiet laugh himself, and it seemed some of the tension eased out of the room. Garrett applied a bit more grease, taking—it seemed to Carver—a bit more time with that than was really necessary, and when he pressed his thumb to Cullen’s anus he met no resistance. His thumb immediately slid in to the second knuckle.

Cullen muffled a sound and pressed against the desk. A subtle movement, but an undeniably sexual one. He was very hard and clearly trying not to exacerbate the situation.

Up until now the proceedings, however intimate, still managed a semblance of professional decorum. Garrett was being a bit generous with the lube but otherwise he had not done anything beyond what appeared to be strictly necessary to ensure Cullen’s comfort and the ease of passage. Carver had grown up in a mage household and viewed mages as individuals rather than a monolithic group, but during these past few years as a templar he’d had it drilled into his skull, again and again, that mages were always opportunists, that a mage would always seek to gain some leverage with their extraordinary power. He knew Garrett wasn’t like that, but it was one thing to be tested in mundane life and quite another to find oneself with one’s thumb quite literally up the ass of the second most powerful templar in Kirkwall.

Indeed, Cullen was at Garrett’s absolute mercy, and if his body language was any indication, he was loving every second of it, howevermuch he struggled to maintain a professional facade. Clearly, Cullen was a templar who wanted—nay, _needed_ —to be fucked, preferably by a mage, and most preferably by the Champion.

The tension lasted but a moment, for Garret promptly withdrew his thumb. “You seem ready, I think we can manage without that,” he said briskly. He pressed his fingers together, focusing Fade energy to draw the ore to his hand. The lyrium promptly obeyed, the pale blue surface visibly pushing through Cullen’s anus.

Cullen seemed to be engaged in a balancing act of holding back an orgasm while remaining relaxed enough to properly expel the lyrium ore, and it was a balancing act he seemed destined to lose.

“Do what you need to do,” Garrett said. “We’ll try again when you’re sorted. It may be easier once that tension is taken care of.”

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen said. “Forgive me.”

“Just pretend I’m not here,” Garrett said.

Cullen gave a soft laugh. “Were that even possible,” he said. He lifted his hips, taking himself briskly in hand as he groped for a cloth on the desk, and he had barely touched himself before his breath hissed between his lips and he came, ejaculating into the cloth.

The lyrium ore was drawn back in, but Garrett simply resumed his spell work, gently drawing it out until the ore was once again pushed through. Cullen weathered this third passage with little fanfare, simply grunting as the ore popped out into Garrett’s waiting gloved palm.

“There we have it,” Garrett said. “Unless… you have any more surprises for us?”

“No, thank the Maker,” Cullen said, furiously dressing. “Never again.”

“Well,” Garrett said. “Never say never...”

Cullen cleared his throat. The steadiness afforded him by the lyrium was not enough to conceal his extreme embarrassment now that the ordeal was behind him. “Champion, you have done the Order a great--” Garrett laughed and Cullen trailed off, looking a bit sheepish. “Yes, well, you have, um, performed admirably. Thank you.”

“Performed admirably,” Garrett said, sitting on the edge of his desk. “It’s a start, but we really need to work on your praise techniques.”

“Andraste preserve me,” Cullen said, rubbing his forehead. “I will never hear the end of this.”

Carver crossed his arms. “Wait a minute,” he said. “What is this?”

“A job well done,” Garrett said. “As usual. Don’t you have a shadow to go stand in?”

“No,” Carver said, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. What is this? You two?” His eyes widened. “Are you two--?”

“As I said,” Cullen continued hastily. “Thank you for your service, Champion. I owe you a favor.”

“By my count, you owe me two favors,” Garrett said, handing him the ore.

“Yes, of course,” Cullen said, quickly pocketing it.

Garrett’s levity faded. “Carrying raw lyrium, even polished, is risky, you know this better than anyone. You must be desperate. She’s punishing you,” he said. He looked at Carver. “And you. The rumors are true, aren't they? She’s withholding lyrium from those who dissent. That’s a violation of Chantry law.”

“That is templar business,” Cullen said. “And I would advise you not to lend credence to such rumors.”

“You’re still defending her,” Garrett said, incredulous. All levity was gone, now.

“She is my superior officer and you are outside the Order. My relationship with her is not your concern,” Cullen said, straightening. Ah, there it was. The usual prickly Knight-Captain had returned. “We are not having this conversation here.”

“No? Of course not. We’ll just have it out in bed then, like always, and go our separate ways.”

Cullen blanched and said, “That—Hawke, those conversations were in confidence. Your brother is my subordinate. You cannot--”

“At this point I’d say Carver has a lot more on you than that, if he’s so inclined.”

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” Carver said, with the weariness of a man who’s gotten far more than he bargained for in a single afternoon. “We were helping each other, everything went tits up and the Knight-Captain kept the Lieutenants off me. We’ll split the bounty and call it square.”

“That’s more than fair,” Cullen said. He held out one of the lyrium ores to him. “If you are found using this--”

“You will disavow all knowledge, I know,” Carver said.

“No,” Cullen said. “If you are found using this I will argue your case with the Knight-Commander myself. I urge you to use discretion all the same. My authority increasingly has limits here, as you have witnessed.” He paused thoughtfully and added. “Do not hide this in the barracks, the Lieutenants frequently search that area. Find a place on the grounds that they would find a nuisance or inconvenience to cover that does not receive civilian traffic.”

“Good idea,” Carver said, pocketing the ore. “Thank you, ser.”

“You are welcome, Ser Carver. You are dismissed,” Cullen said. He gave Garrett a stern look. “The Champion and I have much to discuss.”

“Not another lecture,” Garrett said, sighing. “I keep telling you, there are so many other things we can do with our mouths.”

Carver did not wait to hear the Knight-Captain’s response. He left quickly and quietly, firmly shutting the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave anon comments [on the kinkmeme](https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/91059.html?thread=366332851#cmt366332851).


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